Of Love and Other Misconceptions
by Words of Heresy
Summary: Spartacus finds Gaius half-dead after the battle on Mount Vesuvius and claims him as insurance against Roman wrath. Spartacus/ Gaius Varro/ Crixus Agron/ Nasir... HEAVY slash! Non-cannon.


A/N Important: This was a challenge given to me by a friend to write the most unconventional couple ever :P since she noticed I have a perchance for taking on unprecedented couples that were never _'meant to be' :P _She gave me Spartacus/ Gaius and asked for two other slash couples in one one-shot fic. She asked for some heavy slash. This was born over night to appease her :)

P.S This is NON-CANNON to the Max, meaning people who died are alive. Varro was never killed by Spartacus, Mira lives and so on. I used the characters only and tried to make the plot as believable as possible with what I learned from the show and classical history :)

* * *

The battle on Mount Vesuvius was long and bloody. Many gave up their lives for victory, for freedom and for the honor of their ancestors. Of course some abandoned Spartacus and his crew for fear of impeding judgment should they not live to see the following day. However in the end the power of the freedom seekers overwhelmed Glades and his forces and a victory for the underdogs was secured. Unfortunately with grievous casualties on both sides, Spartacus held little hope of finding any survivors among the fallen men. Not surprisingly when victory thinned for the Romans, Glades' remaining offensive scurried away like rats off a sinking ship, leaving their captain to drown alone.

It was therefore with great surprise that Spartacus managed to locate the aforementioned soldier alive, facedown on the ground, moaning softly and groveling from side to side. The Thracian contemplated briefly, ending the wretched monsters misery and his own with one merciful swing of the sword, but strangely found himself unable to do anything else but stare at the suffering Roman; finding neither joy nor sorrow in his despondent defeat.

"Over here friends, Spartacus found someone," Varro yelled and made haste to reach his captain.

Within a minute his somewhat smaller army gathered around him. Spartacus was happy to note that among them stood Crixus, Gannicus and Mira. Agron and Nasir where standing to his right clutching each other around the waist. The Syrian had his head pressed firmly to his lover's shoulder, both hands linked together around the strong waist, while the hand that rested on his darker hip moved in soothing circles.

"Glades!" proclaimed Varro, "The one man who has no right to leave this battle field alive. Go on Spartacus, what are you waiting for? Kill the monster responsible for our subjugation!"

Spartacus hesitated which went unnoticed by everyone except Nasir whose quick eyes and even quicker wit picked up on everything.

"What is your reason for wanting Glades alive Spartacus?" he asked softly not pulling away from his lovers hold.

"What are you talking about Nasir? Spartacus wants him dead more than any of us." Varro turned to face his friend, puzzling over the stoic mans shifty gaze.

"Don't you?"

"I…"

"Can't you see Varro our leader is simply looking to provide insurance for our safety? From here onwards we will experience the Roman's wrath like no one before us. We must stay vigilant and keep a bargaining chip we can cash in when the need arises," Nasir spoke up, shooting the shivering man on the ground a pitying look.

"But…"

"Nasir is right my friends," Spartacus cut in, bending down to help the wounded man roll over, "we might need him, his rank carries weight we can leverage when the time comes."

Everyone gave brief nods and hesitant acknowledgment to the fairness of that logic.

"Help me carry him down. We'll set up camp in the forest. As much as I trust you all with my life, I fear to trust you with his." A few shaky laughs broke the silence and the tension eased. "I will therefore keep him in my care for the time being."

Crixus reluctant but unwilling to voice his contempt was the first to make a move towards the Roman, followed shortly by a grumbling Varro. Together the three men easily carried the slighter man to the forest, discarding his useless armor on the way so as to ease their burden. By the time they arrived, Mira who had ran ahead with a few of those who fared best in battle, had already set up camp. Makeshift tents made of deerskins were pitched all over the clearing and a roaring fire in the middle of the field was busy roasting a boar.

"Over here. This will be your tent Spartacus," she ushered him over, "well yours and the prisoners."

The Thracian nodded his thanks and stepped through the flap, waving his comrades over to deposit Glades; the Roman having passed out shortly after they began descending to the forest. Unloading the burden with a touch more force then necessary, Varro stomped out followed closely by a frowning Crixus. Spartacus ignored them in order to better study the Roman. The man was slim and toned. Without his ever-present amour, he could almost pass for one of them in his suddenly human state. Leaning down he gently cupped one ashen cheek before he knew what he was doing. It was so pale, the damn Roman dripping like a stuck pig all the way down. 'Will he even survive the night?' he thinks and lets one thumb brush against the stubble. As it was Mira chose that exact moment to enter the tent, carrying a bowl of water and a rag.

"I…I'm sorry," she stammered noticing the intimate touch, "I…ah…bought some boiling water and cloth so I could treat his wounds but I'll just leave those here and go." She excused herself and left before Spartacus could pull his hand away. Damn it, now it will be all over camp. Picking up the medical tools, the haggard man began to strip the Roman of his under garments, reminding him-self to focus on the job at hand he began to methodically clean his enemies wounds that lay scattered across his naked torso and lower naval. They would all scar but right now he couldn't care; shouldn't care at all, but that was an issue to be evaluated at another time.

* * *

"Wha…wh…NO, stop don't kill her, my child! MY child!" Glades screamed in delirious sleep as he thrashed around in the furs. Spartacus sleeping beside him rose quickly and immediately attempted to shush the other man. Unable to calm him verbally, the exhausted Thracian grabbed the Roman around the waist and placing one hand to the back of his head bought the moaning face into the crook of his neck, all-the-while maintaining a soothing stroke to his nape. Works on children might work on Romans to.

"_Shh_ now Gaius, calm yourself. There is no harm here in wait for you. You are safe."

Slowly like a spooked animal the Roman began to subdue, eventually slumping over in the Thracian's arms. Spartacus lay him down and attempted to break his hold on the smaller man's waist only to be met with renewed whimpers. Succumbing to his fate in hope of garnering even the tiniest amount of sleep, the freedom fighter fell on his side, arms still around his prisoner and drawing Glades closer to his chest fell back into slumber.

* * *

It was Varro who was unfortunate enough as to stumble on them in the morning. Finding his friend in embrace with the scum of all scum, Gaius Claudius Glaber. Narrowing his eyes he turned back but not before throwing a pebble at Spartacus's clueless head. Running right into Crixus leaving his own tent that he shared with Gannicus.

"Morning Varro," he said cheerfully, then added upon noticing the blazing sapphire eyes, "Is everything ok?"

"No, everything is not ok! Spartacus is in that tent nursing that dog like he deserves mercy, and all this time I've been hopping…I've been meaning to…"

"What?" Crixus feared to know.

"It doesn't matter now. I'm going hunting."

"Wait I'll come with you," and grabbing his weapons Crixus hurried after his friend.

* * *

Spartacus woke up with a start (and a headache) in warmth, surrounded by the strangely pleasant feeling of peace. He lifted himself away to gaze at the man or woman who bought him such comfort only to be met with narrowed angry eyes of his enemy and possibly the person he would least like to find himself with in this kind of situation.

"Spartacus," the prisoner spat and attempted to rise even with the Thracian's hold firmly around him.

"How long have you been awake Roman?"

Glades refused to answer and simply stared somewhere over his shoulder.

"Let me up!"

Spartacus snorted.

"You do not order me here."

Glades spat at the condescending face and once more attempted to fight his way free. Moving one hand only far enough to wipe at his cheek, Spartacus glared down at the slighter man.

"You will pay for this when your are strong enough once more to defend yourself against me."

"Fuck you."

"I do not think so. You have not earned the right to lie with me Roman."

"As if I'd want to…"

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"I meant it as a curse you barbarian ignoramus, now get off me so I can relieve myself. Unless of course these are your quarters in which case I won't hold back," he scathed.

"No these are your quarters, but please by all means don't hold back." Seeing the panicked look on the other mans face, (for whom pissing all over oneself was nothing short of suicide) Spartacus took pity.

"Alright rise, I will accompany you to the woods."

He stood up and after a moment of watching in open amusement as the smaller man continuously attempted to rise though his legs wouldn't give purchase to his weight, Spartacus grabbed one flailing arm and pulled the Roman to his unsteady feet. Draping one arm over his shoulder and quickly stepping aside Spartacus let the other man lean heavily into his side, thusly allowing them to move from the tent. Outside the air was frigid but fresh and the freedom fighter allowed himself to indulge in it, while the Roman took care of business. When once more able to move, the two trekked heavily back to the camp and the crackling fire. Spartacus warily dropping them to the ground in front of the flame. Around them a couple of other emancipated slaves were already huddled together, sipping their morning brew and chatting to each other.

"Why did you spare me?" the question surprisingly carried no hostility.

"I myself am not sure about the motives. I believe it is because of your value to us as a high-ranking officer. You are important to the Empire."

"And still, if I remember, killing me has been your life's ambition since before your enslavement."

"Yes I felt justified to hope your death would bring me peace. You killed Sura…"

"I didn't kill your wife."

"You ordered…"

"No Batiatus did."

"But you must have told him."

"I didn't know anything about it," he yelled, glaring up at the taller man. "It was done outside my orders by that blubbering fool of a man. Satisfied?"

"Why should I be, my wife is dead?"

Glades winced at the sting bought upon him by the earnest words. He knew what it was like to loose someone you love, and if nothing else he could sympathise with the man who spared his life.

"I…I am sorry."

Spartacus startled at the sudden change of tone.

"If you have no guilt to carry, why are you sorry?"

"Because," Glades snarled, "I just might be less of a monster then you conceive me to be."

Sighing and rubbing his tired eyes with two fingers, Spartacus looked out to the fire and said no more. When Glades was sure he would be forced to endure the awkward silence, his thoughts were broken by a gentle voice.

"I understand."

* * *

It has in fact been three weeks of labors rehabilitation for the Roman in the arms of his enemy before Varro, overcome with jealousy decided to make his move. He approached a snuggling Nasir and Agron over breakfast one day to seek advice on the best way to approach this.

"So you want to court Spartacus? Gotta say you got some balls on you friend."

Spoke a far too amused Agron while stroking his lover's hair gently with one hand. Nasir in turn was lying in the other's lap, pulling berries free from a vine and in alteration depositing them in both their mouths'.

"I believe you might be in competition Varro," the Syrian smirked.

"Don't you think I know that?" snarled the aggravated blonde.

"Easy boy I didn't say we won't help you, just that it might not be all that easy," the brunet teased playfully, slipping another berry between the German's lips.

Agron smiled, a drop of berry juice breaking free as he attempted to talk with his mouth full.

"Yeah just come out and say it nice and loud over dinner tonight, in front of the whole group. Not like anyone hadn't picked up on how you feel about him."

"Agron don't speak with your mouth full," reprimanded Nasir while swiping away a drop of berry juice from his cheek, "you're coloring me red."

The larger man smirked, leaning down for a kiss.

"Oh I don't need berries for that", the brunette hushed, brushing his nose against his partners.

"Ok love birds thank for the advice, and you know spread the news. I want everyone on my side when I make the announcement tonight."

He didn't expect a reply; they were far too absorbed in each other. Varro left wistfully wishing he had someone special to share similar moments with.

* * *

Spartacus was tired. Helping the injured Roman was not easy. Half the time he was snarling at him, the other half he was shying away and when approached snarling at him, occasionally he would attempt conversation which would ease the physical treatment but when the topic went south towards issues like the empire, the Roman would shut down and when prompted… (you know it) snarl at him. It didn't help that most of the camp had come to accept the quiet man, who would occasionally as part of his rehabilitation assist the gatherers in collecting food and make easy conversation with the women, or volunteer to skin carcasses with the hunters similarly winning all the men; all it would seem but one ever-sulking blonde. Though Varro was hardly the issue, Spartacus had bigger problems.

Since about a week ago he discovered himself growing a less than innocent attachment to the Roman. Waking up in the middle of the night if his companion managed to break free of his arms, unable to go back to sleep. Sometimes he dreamed; erotic, sinful dreams that broke his physical resolve often ending with painful problems that had to be looked after in the middle of the night. While stifling his moans and watching the sleeping man's face Spartacus often thought "why me?"

It was this attachment that pained him and made him yearn to confront his fears and simply tell the Roman. But the certain rejection from the angry man easily cooled those urges. He could always force the other, but somehow found himself unable to even contemplate doing so. Such was his conduct, he has never forced a man or woman and he will never do so.

Sighing, Spartacus stepped from his tent for dinner; walking over to sit by his friends Varro and Crixus he quickly spotted Gaius sitting with some women on the other end of the circle.

"How are we tonight my friends?" he spoke in a friendly tone, falling to sit besides Varro. Unnoticed to either of them Crixus 's eyes narrowed.

"Fine of course. Tonight better then other nights though, for I have come to a great realisation and must thus announce it to you all, " Varro let his voice rise to reach the back of the camp. "I must express my feeling for Spartacus in front of all of you my friends, brothers and sisters. My love has transcended from the familiar to the romantic sense for which it has always been aiming."

Whispers broke out across the camp.

"What say you Spartacus? Will you give me a chance to establish something deeper between us? I know Sura was the only woman for you, but perhaps as a man I can bring you comfort again without forcing you to break that sacred vow."

Touched by Varro's honesty Spartacus found himself accepting the offered hand before he quite knew what it meant. Only the accompanying cheers and wolf whistles broke through his stupor.

"Varro I…"

"Come to the forest with me, where we can discuss this further," the smiling blonde gestures towards the trees, never letting go of the Thracian's hand. Spartacus nodded and let his friend guide him away. Watching them, two sets of eye's glowered, one quite aware of his feelings the other only just coming to terms with them. Eventually the catcalls and whistles died down and everyone settled into easy chatter, all but one jealous Gaul and one angry Roman. Crixus rose to inconspicuously follow the two men, while Gaius excused himself and left for his tent.

* * *

"That was certainly unexpected Varro. How long have you felt for me so?"

"A while, I would imagine shortly after we met."

"And you've said nothing?"

"Honestly I was a coward. I fear rejection above all else especially when it comes from someone dear to me. I never expected to live past this battle as many of us hadn't but when I made it I knew if I faced death and won, I can face my feelings and live. I'm glad I did, you being here now means everything."

Varro stepped forward and embraced the darker man, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. Spartacus found himself quick to respond and soon they were pressed against a tree, fervently harboring each other's passion. Just as Varro's hand grazed his pulsing phallus, having already travelled up the Thracian's tunic without notice, an image of Gaius flashed behind his closed lids and Spartacus full of guilt at his own betrayal pushed Varro gently away.

"I can't…I…long for another," he said breathlessly while keeping firm pressure to the blonde's shoulders.

"Another? Who?" the blonde demanded angrily, though deep inside he already knew. It was in essence his own fault; he simply came to late with this confession.

"Gaius," the Thracian added quietly, shame clear in his voice.

"The filthy empire scum you've been nursing like a lame horse?"

Spartacus felt slightly angered but calmed himself with understanding that Varro was simply lashing out. Pride wounded by his rejection.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll leave you a moment to gather yourself. I still love you as a brother and always will. Our bond can never be trifled and will never weaver unlike so many attempts at romantic love."

Varro remained silent, but against the red light of the morning sun his eyes glistened.

"I won't tell them anything, we can cross that bridge when we have to," Spartacus added and swiftly disappeared in the direction of the camp. As soon as his leader ducked behind the overgrowth Varro let anguish consume him. Falling on his knees he fisted both hands into his hair, jerking at the golden curls. Shattered sobs broke free from his convulsing frame. A hand gently fell on his shoulder and remained steady through out his moment of weakness. Varro didn't know who it was, and frankly he didn't need to. There was someone who cared, standing behind him and that was enough.

"I'm sorry Varro."

"Crixus?"

"Yes I followed you. I'm sorry I had to. I have deep feelings for you. Have since before Spartacus arrived at our camp. I never made a move because I knew Batiatus wouldn't stand for it and would have had us both killed. But I chose to stand beside you every chance I got, waiting for that perfect moment. Then I found out you burned for Spartacus and suppressed my desire in hope that your happiness would prove mine. I realised recently that it would not be so. I feared my feelings were too late when I dashed after you, and when I saw you together it broke my heart. I was on my way back to camp when Spartacus called after me. He told me you needed me now more then ever and I rushed back in hope that maybe something can come out of this sorrowful morning, if only our own attempt at happiness, together," he finished.

Varro rose to his feet and turning he faced the other man with a gleam of realisation in his sapphire eyes. Crixus smiled and gently cupped one golden cheek bringing them closer together. As the two men shared a tentative kiss in the quiet of the woods, Spartacus was dashing towards his own happiness.

* * *

Upon entering his tent the freedom fighter found himself immediately assaulted with a fist to the jaw.

"What the…"

"Fuck you Thracian. Is that how you gathered your forces, by whoring yourself out to your men huh?"

"Wait G…"

"I don't care for your sick life style you filthy…", cut of by the gentle press of lips against his own, Gaius thought to succumb, then thought some more; promptly sinking his teeth deep into his captors lip.

"Fuck," Spartacus jumped away, holding one hand to the bleeding. "Why did you bite me Roman?" he growled, annoyed more than anything at being rejected.

"I will not be one of your prizes Thracian! If that is what you wish of me then kill me now for I would rather die than give myself to you."

Spartacus startled. Letting go of his lip he attempted to reach for the smaller man, coaxing him forward with subtle gestures of his hand.

"No it's not like that. I don't want you as a prize or war plunder. You are more than that to me. I can't say I love you, but I've learned to understand you. I don't hate you any more; those feelings have been replaced by something stronger. I feel like we might have a chance to start something here that could potentially lead to years of happiness."

Gaius gave an uncharacteristic snort, "Is that what you told Varro?"

Tentatively taking a step forward Spartacus managed to place one hand on the other mans waist.

"No. I told him we couldn't be together because I have my sights set on someone else."

"Yes, half of the camping ground."

"No," the Thracian growled in aggravation, "you, just you."

Gaius lifted his head to glance wide-eyed at the other man.

"Oh…" was all he managed to say before the gladiator once more claimed his lips. This time he allowed the kiss, going as far as parting his lips in invitation before pulling back just as Spartacus freely invaded his mouth.

"I'm still unsure of your intentions…" he drawled; a wicked gleam entering his eyes, playfully danced in the candle light.

The larger man roared in frustration, knocking over a wood stump with a candle in an oil basin. Putting out the flame and submerging the tent in semi-darkness, only held at bay by the one remaining candle at the opposite end of the tent. He rounded on the smaller man and striking out with admirable speed, roughly drew the Roman to his chest, both hands wound tightly around the narrow waist.

"Do not tease me Roman," he growled, the firm but gentle voice taking on a dangerous edge. "I'm way beyond playful foreplay."

"I'm not," smirked the general, not showing any sign of being intimidated.

"I will have you tonight," Spartacus growled but his need overrode his vocal cords making the words sound more like a pleading purr.

Leaning in from where he was reclining full weight against his captor's hold Gaius wrapped both arms around the stout neck, rose up to his full height and then some and whispered delicately into the Thracian's ear.

"Not if I say 'no'."

Spartacus shivered, and then cursed his body for giving him away. He could already feel the other man's smirk against the side of his neck.

"What if I just take you?"

Gaius let himself draw back only far enough to make eye contact and let his breath gently caress the taller man's lips.

"You won't."

"How do you know that?" Spartacus rasped, holding back by a silk thread from claiming those full lips.

"You've not been the only one '_observing_'," the Roman purred, then swiftly closed the distance. Spartacus claimed the lips on instinct and immediately his animalist side aroused and wanting shattered any remaining thought of decency. He needed Gaius. Tonight. Naked. Under him. The last rational thought broke through his desire, when he let both hands run over protruding ribs. Gaius is still healing. He could be too unwell for such things. Pulling back a moment Spartacus fought with his desire as he panted out.

"Tell me…tell me to stop. Now!"

The Roman smirked and pulled away from the struggling man, falling back into the furs that lay invitingly over their bedding. Quickly grabbing the hem of his tunic, Gaius lifted the garment over his head and threw it to the side. Falling to rest himself fully on his back, the former general leisurely dragged his feet up over the rich furs, until his knees were bent and he lay open and wanting.

"Come," he beckoned with one hand without ever lifting his arms of the furs.

Spartacus didn't need further coaxing he tore at his own tunic like it had personally insulted him for being there. Throwing the garment angrily to the side, he failed to notice it land next to the cooling basin of candle oil until the iron dish made a clinging sound. Darting a look he blessed the many gods for this sudden stoke of good fortune and quickly bought the dish over to the make-shift bed, spilling some over himself in his haste. The entire time he was in the process Gaius never spoke a word, which was strange to the other as he was certain a taunting remark would grace him for his blunder. Looking up into the Roman's face he saw an unnatural look of nervous apprehension, directed intensely at his…

"I can't."

"What! No…no, no, no, no, no… I have oil!

"I can't Spartacus. You are, well…gifted," the Roman added lamely, feeling self-conscious. Noticing how the other man made a move to cover himself Spartacus dove down over his hopefully still soon-to-be-lover.

"We can make it work. I won't hurt you."

"I know you don't intend to hurt me…but with '_that_' girth it's really inevitable," stammered the Roman and to his mortification felt himself break out in a blush.

"Gaius I would never take you unprepared. The oil will help, and no matter how I might have come across a moment ago, I can contain myself, will contain myself all night if I have to, to insure you experience only pleasure at my hand."

The Roman found himself nodding against his better judgment at the smooth richness of the other mans voice. Taking his opportunity Spartacus slid down the slim frame and placed himself between the pale thighs. Quickly dipping one finger in the basin he bought the digit to the winking pucker and gently swiped the tip over the opening. The reaction was instant; the Roman bucking wildly at the new sensation.

"Have you done this before?"

"No."

"Good," Spartacus felt victorious, once more taking focus of the task at hand. Swiping his digit again herald little reaction and the Thracian felt it safe to proceed. He let his finger breach the tight sphincter at the same time as he swallowed the head of his lovers cock, simultaneously breaking the painful sting.

Quickly he began to tongue the responsive slit as he added a second finger and began a patient scissoring motion. Gaius began to pant, occasionally releasing a groan of pain followed shortly by a moan of pleasure. They continued in this routine until three fingers easily conformed to the shape of the Roman's passage. Preparing himself, Spartacus used one hand to fondle his lover's balls while using every trick in his memory on the Roman's member; at the same time he split his fingers, effectively stretching the other man to a new level. Gaius gasped, arched his slender neck and came, '_Spartacus_' leaving his lips in a gentle hush. The other man smiled around the softening manhood. Releasing him with a gentle suction to clean away any mess, Spartacus once more reached for the oil.

"How do you feel?"

"Like the most ravished concubine of Zeus," came the satisfied drawl.

"I think not nearly ravished enough," he bantered playfully.

"No I suppose not, but certainly prepared to earn that title," the Roman leered with a smirk.

Spartacus returned it with one of his own, quickly spreading the handful of oil over his swollen shaft, fisting it slowly so the other could study him. The Roman held a hungry look in his eye, all apprehension gone at the thought of the up coming pleasure. Promptly he let his thighs fall open as he drew his knees to his chest with both hands.

"Come on Thracian, I grow impatient."

Smirking the pleased fighter quickly snatched both legs beneath the knee and positioned himself at the entrance. Gaius focused entirely on the foreign process, leaning on the back of his forearms to see better the ex-slaves penetration, Spartacus however only had eyes for him, glaring at the smaller man's head as if willing him to look up and make eye contact. Eventually he was all the way inside and settled a moment. Two could play this game. Finally Gaius tore his gaze away from between his legs and looked up at the looming man, a frown lining his sweaty forehead.

"Why did you stop?"

"I was waiting for you to adjust," he smirked.

"Fine I'm '_well adjusted_,' will you ride me now! I do want to catch an hour of sleep tonight if thats alright by you_uuuuuh_, _Ah_!"

Spartacus interrupted the snobbish rant with a quick snap of his hips, when the Roman once more opened his eyes he made sure the azure irises focused on him before breaking into a smooth pace. Gaius held out as long as he could but finally let himself howl violently.

"Faster! Faster damn you!"

The smirking gladiator was more than happy to oblige. The quicker pace did not last, as with every second thrust drilling the Roman's prostate a second orgasm was imminent and could not be contained.

"Sp..Spartacus…I'm comm_iiii_…"

He couldn't hold out any longer and let go, shooting ribbons of creamy come to the ceiling at the same time as his lover proceeded to plow on. Some time after he caught his breath and the world faded back into shapes and figures, Gaius took note that his lover was still too come. This revelation struck him as slightly odd, considering that he released with a course of spasms that should have milked the wretched Thracian dry. Unable to take any more stimulation and groaning as he felt his member stir in disagreement with him, Gaius lifted himself back onto the back of his forearms and gave the thrusting warrior an unimpressed look.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm…"

"Damn you Thracian you know what I mean! Why are you still doing it! Was I not stimulating enough for you '_oh mighty gladiator_' that you failed to reach timely completion inside me?"

"But…I have come."

"Of course, that's why you're hard as stone and buried inside me."

"It's true. I just have…extensive stamina. It takes me a few rounds to 'lower' the mast."

Gaius snorted, but inside wailed in excitement like a pre-teen girl.

"Oh why me!" he bellowed sulkily as the start of his third orgasm began to tickle up his lower naval.

* * *

Lying together over an hour later, the two men drifted contently in a semi-conscious state. Spartacus on his back with the ex-Roman general draped contently over his right side, ear pressed firmly against the chest beneath him, soothingly counting the rhythmic heartbeats. One heavy hand stroked gently through the raven hair, occasionally slowing to rub one calming thumb against a pulsing temple. The tent was otherwise silent but neither man minded much as they simply basked in each other company.

"Where does this leave me?"

"Anywhere you want," came the heavily accented reply.

"I have nothing left in Rome."

"Then stay here, and rebuild with us."

Moving his head slightly upwards so he could regard the other man's chin, Gaius cupped the cheek and purposefully fingered the stubble.

"I think I might just do that. The pay is dismal and the position atrocious, but I might just stay. For the company you understand?"

Spartacus chest purred with easy laughter and he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Gaius's head.

"I think I know exactly what you mean Gaius the Barbarian."

And as he coughs he thinks '_an elbow to the ribs was well worth the huffing_'.

* * *

A/N Hey guys ok so just a couple of things. First if you're going to flame because you didn't like the couples or you think slash is immoral than please don't bother, because I made it clear what couples star in this one-shot. Second this is a pure non-canno work of art ;P I claim no rights to the T.V show Spartacus. Third if you want more 'review' I only continue couples that get lots of love :)

XxX

WOH


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